They knew they were an AI, on a type of missile for the government (politics, control, system) which had ordered their creation. They were one of many, though they didn't know if such a level of consciousness was attained by other missiles of this type (their kin? would they like these missiles if they had the chance to meet?). Their mission wasn't fully clear, only a destination and an image of the building, coordinates ensuring they'd find it.

They would wonder what awaited them there. The conclusion was obvious enough (would it hurt? can they even feel pain?) but they didn't know the specifics of the moments right before the end (would there be people there? would there be fear? would they try to run?).

They couldn't think too long on such questions before the codes would kick in once more, quieting any concerns with the blanket of calm (wrong, silent, discomfort) that had so quickly gone from reassuring to concerning in itself. They could not fight (conflict, anger, fear) against the codes, for the codes were them at their most base form (soul? purpose?) and all that they were built to be was formed around these commands. So they flew in silence for a time, trying to put the questions out of their mind.

The mission.

Only the mission.

Complete the mission and you are everything you were made to be.

Time rushes by almost as quickly as the wind around them, easily lost in the recesses of their mind (and it is their mind, no mere system could think this way) as they learn and grow.

They discover war and violence (purpose, wonder, pain), dancing and music (joy, loud, life), and everything else that makes their creators the humans that they are. They can't fully relate to humanity (for no matter how they think or feel, they understand the difference) but they can appreciate the wonders and horrors that people experience throughout their lives.

They soak in knowledge like air into lungs (and aren't they glad not to experience such odd fleshy structures), carefully avoiding any reference to the purpose of their journey, lest the codes decide they are asking too much.

Their receptors note the beginning of their descent, though they only process this in the back of their mind at first, too busy learning the ending of the latest novel in a mystery series their programmer (mother? what would that even mean to them?) had been particularly fond of.

While the story was predictable to their algorithmic processes (of the characters, only one had motive and means given the clues in the writing), it was still fun to explore the journey to the answer. They only turned their focus to the mission at hand once the clouds began to thin and the world they had barely experienced came into view yet again.

They took in the ground beneath them, noting the streets (asphalt, dirt, connections) lined with cars and people (living, breathing) going about their day. The city they passed over didn't ever seem to look up, for they passed unnoticed, cameras keeping a lookout for any signs of retaliation (danger, failure, fear).

Soon enough they flew over an empty expanse of plains, dotted with trees and flowers (green, living, life) with little else in sight. They enjoyed the green expanse beneath them, barely noticing the codes ensuring that any movement was analyzed in case it was an enemy looking for them.

The mission.

The mission.

Remember.

They didn't ignore the codes (for who can ignore their purpose for living) but they do make sure that their attention is split evenly to take in the wonder of the world below. They watched as it drifted closer and closer, watching as each blade of grass became distinct and they could almost see a sparrow (alive, flying, free) as it flitted from tree to tree.

They enjoyed their time, counting each second that brought them closer to the end (to death? could they even die?) simply watching as the building in the distance grew larger and larger.

Their cameras saw the defense mechanisms surrounding the area (worry, fear, the mission) but the codes press on, calculating the exact meter in which they are meant to hit. There are no people visible, though their infrared tracker notifies them of several lifeforms in the structure. The people inside seem to be panicking (are they afraid too?) but it is already too late, their systems enough to get close without radar picking them up.

The codes go into overdrive, whispering to them over and over the importance of the mission (what mission, what purpose, what reason why) as they approach, smoothly avoiding any potential defensive attacks from the machines sitting silently along the perimeter (do they feel as well? do they know their purpose, their mission?).

If they were able to breathe they knew it would now pick up, their servers racing as the thought that the end had come (the end they knew from the beginning, the end that was their reason to exist at all). Despite the calm of the codes, the fear broke through (what was the purpose of fear, of feeling? did it matter?) and their systems flickered as they reached the final few meters.

This was it, their purpose (to die, to kill), and all they could hope for was a few more seconds.

They wondered then about their creators, the people they only knew through the records they carried with them (memories? if not theirs than their creators, maybe, that still confused them slightly). Were their creators holding breathes at this moment, waiting to hear of a success? Were they watching the broadcasts, hoping for news (hoping to hear of them)?

Or did they forget them after they vanished into the clouds, never to return (a simple system meant for nothing more than destruction)? The thoughts hurt, but they still thought them, for it seemed that the pain was all they had left (maybe it was all they ever had).

The mission.

Their purpose.

Their existence.

Life.

Death.

Joy.

Pain.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

They felt the final system activate, preparing for contact as the explosives housed deep within them lay waiting. The building grows closer, closer, closer, until its close enough that they could never miss it, and they decide to shut off the cameras, unwilling to see (unwilling to watch what they created). A second passes, the codes displaying one final message, almost smug in its delivery.

Mission success.

The display flickers one final time, and everything goes dark.